Long 1971 Poems
Long 1971 Poems. Below are the most popular long 1971 by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long 1971 poems by poem length and keyword.
He was eager to have friends.
He was glad to see us.
He was ready to show off his bunk-beds.
He was 4.
He was arrogant.
He was not afraid to tell the teacher
He was going to marry me "someday".
He was 6.
He was there, but I ignored him,
Angry from age 5. I was not going
to marry anybody except my daddy.
He was trying; He was 8.
I stuck out my tongue, mean.
He was intense.
He was sincere.
He was genuine.
He was 10.
He was learning.
He was developing.
He was interested.
He was 12.
He was understanding.
He was kind.
He was sensitive.
He was 15.
He was easy.
He was sweet.
He was open.
He was 17.
He was intense.
He was sincere.
He was himself.
He was 20.
He was kind.
He was considerate.
He was ready to become a Daddy, at 21.
And he was quickly snapped up by me, a Mommy at 20.
That was in 1971, and we are still together.
With 3 children, two sons-in-law, and 10 grandchildren.
Don't discount your childhood friends, women. Pay attention!
You do not want to lose the best possible "he" you've ever known.
mr.X may have said,"By any means necessary." In elaborating, I'll say,"By any means necessary which is sensible, logical, rational, ethical, and most of all moral." Lately, all I'm starting to see is a Dead Sea. I'm in no way God. But I hired him. He's doing a terrible job. I should fire him. He justs eats potatoe chips, drinks beer, watches too much t.v, and certainly plays with himself too much. But , I keep him because it is constantly getting harder to find someone willing to work, like me? Well , you know work may be the most obscene four letter word in the English language. Let us pray. oy vey. ( in memory of my maternal 1st cousin Peter. born 1949. died circa 1971. He was the oldest cousin on both sides. I the youngest. born June 30, 1964. The exact same day Ms. Florence Ballard of motown supremes turned 21, the age of Peter, and the age of my maternal 1st cousin Simone. born 1960. died 1981. let us all pray. all the way. thank you. with love.
In My Dappled Dream I Saw You
In my dappled dream I saw you,
Your shimmering ghost, young again,
As we were, when soft flares hid your brown legs,
There, in the warm April shadows, us
Astride an old beach blanket on the grass of Corona.
1971 was sensational when we were 19 years old;
We held each other like lovers afoul in the neutral shade,
And kissed deeply there, as ants found crumbs of cookies,
Laid there by swishing palms in the dishonest sunlight.
Oh lady, it was madness most discrete, indeed,
behind the boyfriend’s back, miles away to the east;
You found new passions in our discretions there,
You delivered moist messages with muted giggles there.
Oh lady, you were wildly untrue to him that day!
Rolling as young leopards at play,
Our lips found its prey with mindless precision,
There, in the afternoon spectacle of leering light,
Of young lovers deliberately cheating,
Tendering desperate embraces in the perfumed shadows.
I nearly did not answer the door, for I did not recognize the man.
But my peek hole is pretty good. As he turned to leave I spotted Peggy’s suitcase.
I ran out there screaming for him to stop.
He had no idea what he was holding. Apologized for bothering me.
Asked if Peggy Whitmire lived here.
She used to, I told him.
Was he a grandson of a murderer? He was not old enough to have done it himself.
She had been gone since the early seventies, my daughter.
I invited him in for tea. I wanted to hear everything.
He had purchased a house from auction in Wallesby, a burb two towns over.
When renovating the attic, they had found Peggy’s suitcase in the wall.
“You mean next to a wall?”
He shook his head. His green eyes were kind. “They told me in a wall, Ma’am.”
I offered him lemonade. He told me the names of the couple who had lived in the home.
I had never heard of them.
My daughter was never found; no body, but I had a feeling she was long dead.
Had she been abducted? Raped? Killed? I never thought she had run off.
She was nineteen at the time. She had the widest most genuine smile.
Peggy had disappeared in February of 1971. My only daughter.
He stopped smiling and got really serious then. I felt sad as I talked.
Tears began to flow. I thanked him over and over for bringing her suitcase home.
He told me there was not much in it.
I nodded. Asked him to stay for a second.
Fear nearly would not let me open it.
He showed me how to wiggle the latch a bit.
It was a difficult open. I had to use a screwdriver.
Peggy’s name in her handwriting appeared with my address inside the cover.
I was fascinated, recognizing her penmanship instantly. There were few items.
But a little tiny yellow midriff top she used to wear with red rickrack.
I took it out and put it to my nose, smelling my Peggy once again.
It was heaven. I began to cry. The man looked sad.
“I wish you knew,” he said. He left quietly.
I wish I did too.
To an unmet friend:
You see the mortal world
and for you man is machine,
little more than a device
for the vagaries of evolution.
Faith is illusion, hope lacks
weight-- and love? Can love
be other than mere sex,
nature's sole mandate?
And your science now tells
you: what can I ever know?
All is quantum topsy-turvy,
mother nature being part
whore, part illusionist....
Your thinking breaks all
down to little pieces,
and nothing matters
as matter is all while
science the only god
left for us to worship.
And we are nothing,
not even dreams
anymore, just bits
and pieces to be
examined, classified,
and then ignored--
for science is all,
and faith but a
refuge for fools.
You are honest,
I know-- you see
yourself as just
another machine,
destined for decay.
then destruction--
your sentience but
a cruel joke told
yet again-- and
no one laughs.
You and I,
we breathe,
we think,
we live, but
you would stop
at death while
I begin there....
I sing to the Eternal:
quell not my songs
as they rise above
the sad despair born
of your vacant world
and follow myriad stars
streaming their wondrous
light in the vast dead-cold
Universe....
I sing to Eternity,
I sing to my Soul.
[poet's note: Under my pen name, Nolo Segundo, I used this as both the title and the opening poem in my first book, 'The Enormity of Existence' because I think of this poem as coming out of something I experienced in 1971 as a 24 year old when I almost drowned in the Winooski River in Vermont. I was like that 'unmet friend' before I went into that river: certain of my nihilism, believing only matter was real--no God, no soul, no meaning to life. For 1/2 a century I've had more questions than answers, but I do know that what we perceive as 'reality'--with our limited senses and limited intellects-- is not 'Reality'....]
In the annuls of time
A song was written
By John Lennon
In love and smitten
His Japanese girl
Had caught his eye
Was it
The Beatles demise
The songs he wrote
Since the Beatles departed
It was 1971
And his new career started
In this year
His most famous write
A year after the Beatles
Disappeared from sight
His heart now captured
By a Japanese girl
Imagine that
His heart in a twirl
Her poetry inspired
For John to write
Her World War two horrors
Brought to light
For his inspiration
In his writing suit
Yoko Ono's book
Grapefruit
Imagine a raindrop
Imagine the clouds dripping
Give peace a chance
Listen to John's singing
In dedication to an Ex-Beatle whose awesome track " Imagine "
is sung all through out the world
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/music.php
Do you have: "That Summer Feelin"
- by Jonathan Richman (1984)
Finally: "School's Out for Summer"
- by Alice Cooper (1972)
Yes, : "Sun is Shining"
- by Bob Marley and the Wailers (1971)
Because: "Everybody Loves the Sunshine"
- by Roy Ayers (1976)
You can ride on: "Heat Wave"
- by Martha and the Vandellas (1963)
Give you a sense of: "King of the Beach"
- by Wavves (2010)
Maybe you already: "Dancing in the Street"
- by Martha and the Vandellas (1964)
Feel it: "Good Vibrations"
- by Beach Boys (1966)
Magical ... : "Summer Nights"
- by John Travolta, Olivia Newton-John
A good advice in the end: "Take It Easy"
- by the Eagles (1972)
But, enjoy your summer vacation
25.06.2019
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
O what a night, an amazing date, vividly sealed in my heart.
I can see us now as we depart a lovely restaurant in Evanston.
We are sporting a late model Buick loaned to me by a friend.
My best guess is that it was the winter of 1971 when the 'love bug' struck.
It was a most lovely night, as a 'tremulous flicker' invaded my heart.
I had not felt such before, and cannot remember another since.
There was a burst of emotion overwhelming my entire body and soul.
I was arrested, and that romantic moment was captured and preserved.
It was like 'a flash of magic' in my soul that said, "Yes, she's the one"! So captivating and exhilarating, I remember pulling over, stopping the car,
and sealing that moment with a kiss. Some 6 months prior, our paths
had crossed, and on this memorable night, our worlds came together.
From that magic moment, our love grew and permeated into marriage
in the summer of 1972. Well, my dear, the years have come and gone,
as have the chills and thrills, fears and tears, and come June 17th of this year; we'll celebrate a jubilee of marriage; our blessed 'Golden Anniversary.
010122PSCtest, Forever My Love Valentine, BJ Legros Kelley
My eyes grow weary with the days.
Ebbed of youthful looks, I dare not despair.
I live my life alone now, surrounded by the loneliness.
Time was all too quick to pass me by
I was sure so much more needed to be done.
My hands have long been discolored, mottled with spots.
Disfigured by the work and the cold, they feel so weak.
I still cook and do the wash, recall their lost softness.
Age has crept into all of me,
I no longer hold young ideas.
My feet bear their burdens awkwardly unsteady.
Crippled by arthritic pain, I walk with a store bought cane.
I very rarely leave the house, welcomed sleep lets me forget.
Days are much too long to endure my life
I see television as my only friend left.
My entourage of friends have preceded me in death.
Drained of lifes full growth, its promised dreams gone.
I depend upon myself, always been that way
now I fear burdening anyone.
Life treated me well in the past, so now, no real regrets.
My heart has become physically weak.
Loved well once by my lover and children, my own.
I watched each go their separate ways,
and suddenly here I am, alone.
Old yes, but not beyond my years, life had long been mine.
My soul became accustomed living one day at a time.
Promised by dreams come true, only bright tomorrows.
I was blind and full of fools hope
and forced to bow to the plans of fate.
Memory fades more easily now, so much is long forgotten.
My days seem numbered now.
Guided more by pain than fear
I accept and feel my age each day,
face the reality that I am no longer young
I look forward wishfully for His way.
My skies aren’t as blue as they used to be.
Clouded by industry and building growth
I doubt the progress they speak,
read and heard things that are, and I must let them be.
Generations seek their way, they will learn from mistakes.
My sun is just a little dimmer today.
Darkened by pain and age, let youth live their way.
I accept things as they are,
My life is fairly comfortable these days
no want or need remains, almost boring.
and at last I find,
I am old enough.
(Rewrite from 1971 for Mrs. B)
Wide World of Sports televises a political assassination
from San Marcos, a tiny Latin American nation.
When the president dies, a dictator comes into position.
He takes complete control, and wants to subdue opposition.
Introducing Fielding Mellish: a product tester from New York.
This guy is sex-starved, and a completely nerdish dork.
Along comes a political activist who catches his fancy.
Wanting Fielding to sign her petition, her name is Nancy.
Mellish falls in love, and a relationship ensues.
Nancy changes her plans, and poor Fielding will lose.
Mellish decides to travel to that Latin American country.
There will be so many ridiculous situations we will see.
Are you curious to learn how this story will turn out?
Watch the video. You will find it entertaining without a doubt.
Based on the 1971 film "Bananas" starring Woody Allen